


Cab Driver 71126

by Arnie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Episode: s01e01 A Study in Pink, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-10
Updated: 2012-06-10
Packaged: 2017-11-07 11:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arnie/pseuds/Arnie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff thought It'd be a shame if he dropped dead partway through the drive, though given the heavy traffic today, his passengers would probably survive a crash.  Maybe.  It'd put a dampener on their excitement though.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cab Driver 71126

The cab came to a halt and Jeff hit the meter as the young couple got in, their eyes fixed on each other as they giggled about getting caught in the rain. The girl, in particular, seemed giddy with excitement, and Jeff caught the way her gaze went from the man's face to her left hand and back again. Newly engaged then. He shifted in his seat and sat up a bit higher to get a glimpse of the ring. Oh, very nice. That should mean a good tip for him; the bloke wouldn't want to appear tight in front of his fiancée - not after dropping that much on a ring.

He nodded as the man told him the address. Nice area too, and if Jeff threw in a couple of diversions, it'd be a good fare.

Assuming he survived the drive.

He glanced in the mirror again, smiling to himself as they ignored him totally. If only they knew.

Jeff was no longer surprised by how trusting people were. He'd been a cabby for years, and people rarely - very, very rarely - thought of him as a person. He suspected most of them thought he didn't have eyes either, the way they carried on. If he'd been the kind of bloke to be into porn, he'd have set up a couple of cameras in the back of his cab. Get a few drinks down them, and half of them lost their inhibitions. Jeff was thinking about getting a hose installed instead; maybe that'd persuade 'em to cool it until they got inside the privacy of their own homes or the nearest hotel. At least these two were behaving themselves; just holding hands and snuggling up close.

It'd be a shame if Jeff dropped dead partway through the drive, though given the heavy traffic today, they'd probably survive a crash. Maybe. It'd put a dampener on their excitement though.

As the traffic cleared enough to let him through, Jeff turned the wheel, glancing at the pedestrians as he went, absently calculating how many he'd take out if he went mid-turn. His gaze was caught by a stroller, the dark-haired little girl in it reminding him of his Courtney, and he straightened the wheel a bit too quickly. It'd be a pity to hit a kid like that. He knew what it was like to not see your kids again, though Courtney and Eddie were fine. So far as he knew, anyway. Liz would've let him know if they weren't, he was sure of that, if only to ask for money for a funeral.

Oh, well, there was no point in repining. Maybe it was for the best anyway. No point in having his kids worry about him and the thing in his head. And they would; they'd always been good kids.

Now where was...ah, there it was. Jeff gently applied the brakes and let the cab glide to a halt. Typically, the lovebirds in the back hadn't noticed. "That'll be sixteen pound seventy," he said, stopping the meter.

"Oh, er..." The bloke looked at the meter, with a hint of a frown, then pulled out his wallet and handed over a twenty. As the girl tugged on his arm, he added, "Keep the change," and followed her out of the cab.

"Much obliged." Not that he'd had much choice. Jeff hid his smile and drove off. With a bit of luck, he'd get another fare on his way back, especially as it looked like it was about to rain again.

He did, but it was a businessman, an annoyed look on his face. Jeff eyed up his suit; nice-looking but not that expensive - the man had gone for looks over quality. No, there'd be no tip out of him.

"Wouldn't it be better to go straight down?" the bloke asked, a sharp tone in his voice.

"Diversion at the bottom, sir," Jeff lied, as he continued to take the turn. "I think they're digging up the drains again." No more diversions either then. Well, if he went straight there, he wouldn't keep the fare for long.

He didn't, and his next two were little better. Jeff sighed to himself. If this kept up, he'd barely have enough to cover his bills this month, let alone add anything to his savings. At least the heavy rain was keeping him busy: that harried mother - three or more kids, no husband - with a stack of shopping bags would have walked to the tube rather than spending part of her hard-earned wages on a cab. After her, he got a married couple - two men with matching wedding rings sharing quiet, little smiles when they thought he wasn't looking. Only recently married too, judging by the gleaming gold of the rings. At least they'd been good for a bit of a tip.

Tea time came, and Jeff took a bit of a break, then headed back out, despite it being a weeknight. There wouldn't be anywhere near the amount of fares he'd get on a Friday or Saturday night, but he'd be guaranteed to pick up a few coming out of restaurants. Two more courting couples - one adulterous, one not - and Jeff considered going home. The rain had eased off; between that and the mild evening, people would be more likely to walk to the tube or the nearest bus stop. As a tall, muscular man in an expensive suit flagged him down, Jeff debated with himself then pulled over. A fare was a fare, after all, even if the stubborn-looking bloke was as tight-fisted as that earlier businessman. To his surprise, there were two of them - the other had been hidden behind the first - and, even more to Jeff's surprise, the other, a smaller, slighter man, was the leader of the team. As they got in, the smaller man smiled and gave the address in a soft, lilting Irish voice. Jeff gave him a second glance, then shifted his eyes to the road as a dark, intelligent gaze met his.

Jeff shifted in his seat and hoped he wouldn't go out in the middle of this fare. For one thing, he was intrigued by the pair of them, and, for the second, if he didn't actually die of the aneurysm, he was a little unsure as to what the smaller man's reaction would be. It was a new experience for him; normally, he could read people like a book. This one though...

He looked up into the mirror again, only to find the bloke smiling at him.

"Well, now...you look like a man with a lot on his mind."

Jeff bit back a laugh, but managed a, "You'd be surprised."

"Would I?" The smile widened. "I like being surprised, don't I, Seb?" There was a rumble of agreement from the other man, then this one continued, "Why don't you surprise me, Mr...?"

"Hope. Jeff Hope."

"Hope! That's a good name. There's always hope."

"Not always." Jeff was well aware he'd failed to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Ah, you sound like you need someone to listen to your problems. Maybe help you find a solution." The bloke leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I'm very good with solutions. Maybe I could surprise you."

Jeff met his gaze again, then turned his attention back to the road as he pulled up. "That's seven pound sixty, sir."

To his surprise, he was handed a fifty and a card. "Keep the change, Mr. Hope."

"This is -"

The cab door shut behind them and Jeff fell silent. Fifty quid for a seven pound sixty fare. The man had to be made of money. He eyed the card, tilting it so the writing on the front caught the light. _Moriarty_ , it said, with _Solutions_ beneath it. There was a phone number too. Jeff pursed his lips and tucked the card and money away safely in his pocket. Maybe he'd call. Tomorrow. He'd think it over first.

The end.


End file.
